


You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em

by Mossy_Birch (Mossy_Bench)



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Poker, Yuletide Treat, set sometime during season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-26 12:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossy_Bench/pseuds/Mossy_Birch
Summary: Poker leads the crew to realizing that Lovelace is human, after all. (lmao.)





	You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em

**Author's Note:**

  * For [freudiancascade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudiancascade/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, and my sincerest apologies about the title.
> 
> This is space poker with an AI so it's a little weird, but still basically poker.

Chess, Eiffel eventually discovers, isn't the only game he can play with Hera. The Hephaestus is also equipped with simulated poker.

That's fantastic news for Eiffel, Hera, and Minkowski. Lovelace still keeps them all busy as they attempt to repair her escape shuttle, but ever since they'd all come to an understanding, things have calmed down. To Eiffel, poker is perfect. He can fill up his free time, he can use it to procrastinate on his chores and duties, and he gets to stay in the comms room avoiding Hilbert, especially Hilbert.

Believe it or not, Minkowski has never played poker before, so they start by just playing straight, even though Eiffel has won (and lost) a lot of money playing Texas Hold 'em back on Earth. Oh well. Hera is very kind to them and even lets them win a couple times, despite being able to calculate the odds of literally anything. There's not much to bet, between two humans and an AI, so they bet things like station secrets, stupid stories, and honest answers.

"Three of a kind," Minkowski says, looking up from her monitor with a scary gleam in her eyes. On Eiffel's monitor he sees her hand. Three 10s. Damn it. If he could, he would throw his cards down in defeat, but as it's all simulated the best he can do is stare gloomily at his monitor, and the high Jack that was in his hand.

"Flush," Hera says smugly. "Hm, what did you two bet this time?"

"Please, not another story about pre-pubescent Eiffel being afraid of ridiculous things," Minkowski says. "I can only take so much."

"I didn't even tell that many," Eiffel says, pretending to be affronted just to annoy her.

"I'm sorry, but I still can't believe you were afraid of sharks in the swimming pool until you were twelve." Hera snickers. "Not even 100 shark attacks happen in an entire _year_."

Eiffel wags his finger. "And how many of those were in swimming pools? I've got you there." He shrugs. "And if you don't want to hear how I developed my fear of spiders, that's definitely fine by me."

"Minkowski, then. Tell me a secret," Hera says. "Have you got anything on Lovelace?"

Minkowski turns to him. "No. Do you, Eiffel?"

Eiffel frowns, trying to think. "Not really? She doesn't open up much to me, can't imagine why."

"But things are better with her now," Minkowski reminds. "Our truce is going better than we could have hoped."

"Yeah. I guess so." Eiffel sits back. "I got no dirt on her, though. She's a wall. Which sucks, because she seems like she has a lot of good stories."

"After listening to her audio logs, I was expecting her to be a certain way. I was surprised to find that she is usually very professional," Minkowski says, sounding approving.

"You mean, scary and no fun?" Eiffel asks. "Because she's not the only one on the Hephaestus who's 'professional'."

"Well, _I_ think I know something about her that you two don't!" Hera says quickly, trying to stop an argument.

The threatening glare disappears from her face, as Minkowski immediately pays attention. "What? How?"

"If you want to know, you both have to beat me." God, Hera is smart. She knows just how to grab Minkowski's attention.

"You're on."

Eiffel just goes along with it. He's as curious as anyone about Lovelace, of course, but he's not like Minkowski, who hates not knowing, who can't hear about a mystery without wanting to lift a candle to it.

They get dealt their virtual cards. Eiffel stares at his, wondering how his luck is so bad. He glances up. Minkowski's expression is totally blank, but there's a little tremble in her hand that makes Eiffel think she's going to do something drastic. Unfortunately, he can't scrutinize Hera for physical tells.

"How are the cards looking, Hera?" Eiffel asks casually.

"That didn't work the last five times you tried it," Hera says, her light voice giving nothing away. "Minkowski, it's your bet."

"I bet the location of the last bit of instant coffee."

Eiffel's jaw drops. And he has to match that? "I'm folding," he declares, tapping the command on the interface.

"I bet what I found out about Lovelace," Hera says.

Eiffel looks quizzically at Minkowski. "Minkowski, you can't possibly think they're the same value--"

"Shut up, Eiffel," they both say. Minkowski looks determined. Hera sounds like she's trying not to laugh.

Eiffel waits in silence as Minkowski and Hera trade in their cards and look at their new hands. Minkowski chews her lip before saying, "I bet two instances of having to respond to Hilbert when he tries to explain why everything he did was logical."

"I'll match that," Hera says.

Minkowski's eyes narrow. "You're not going to raise--?"

"Show your cards, Minkowski," Hera says.

"Well, then..." Minkowski says, her voice getting that aggressively triumphant tone it does sometimes. "Read them and weep!"

Eiffel can't even make fun of her for that, because Minkowski, somehow, has a straight flush. "I'm, uh, glad I folded," he says meekly.

"Pay up," Minkowski says, smug as he's ever seen her.

Hera sighs. "Alright, I guess I'll deal with Hilbert."

Minkowski is too impatient to play along. "No, tell us about Lovelace. What did you find out?"

Hera laughs. Eiffel doesn't know why an AI can laugh, but he doesn't mind it. "As an AI, I've got to say that Lovelace didn't seem very human at first. I liked her in the audio logs, but in person she just..."

"She was very brusque with all of us," Minkowski agrees.

"Yes. It's been frustrating. But those audio logs we found, she sounded so different in them. So I went searching, to see if there were any we'd missed, and I found one that she'd tried to delete."

Minkowski's eyes go wide. "Did it reveal anything about the Hephaestus? About Goddard? Or Hilbert?"

"No, nothing like that," Hera says. "In the recording, she...gets drunk, and argues with a person who isn't there."

Minkowski looks disappointed, but Eiffel leans forward. "What did she say? Who was the person?"

"Based on context, I think she had an on-again, off-again girlfriend named Mira who hated cats."

"How could anyone hate cats?" Minkowski says indignantly.

"You  _would_ be a cat person," Eiffel mutters, shaking his head. Unfortunately, neither Minkowski nor Hera pay any attention to him.

"That's what Lovelace kept saying, although it was hard to tell at the end because she was slurring her words so much," Hera says. "And don't ask me how she got the alcohol in the first place."

Minkowski still looks confused. "The last person I'd imagine to get angrily drunk over an ex would be Lovelace. She seems like she'd be above that."

"I guess she's more of a disaster than she let on," Eiffel says. "Makes her part of the club."

Minkowski's expression has changed. Now she looks thoughtful, as she stares down at her interface. "Do you think we could invite Lovelace to play poker with us?" she wonders aloud.

"Maybe," Hera says, tentative. "It couldn't hurt, I suppose, now that she's, uh--"

"Now that she's chilled the fuck out," Eiffel supplies.

"Yes." Hera sounds amused, which always makes Eiffel feel strangely proud of himself. "But Hilbert is still banned."

"Of course," Minkowski says. "Anyway, I bet he'd cheat." 

**Author's Note:**

> I actually love Hilbert, but Minkowski, Eiffel, and Hera definitely do not.


End file.
